


for I have loved you wrong

by zjofierose



Series: (every now and then) on my mind - Angstober 2019 [9]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Boys In Love, Communication, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Unrequited, Unrequited Love, background Victor/Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27499144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: "do you still love ___?"
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: (every now and then) on my mind - Angstober 2019 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998550
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	for I have loved you wrong

**Author's Note:**

> just a baby ficlet for a prompt from a 2019 Angstober list. originally posted as part of a multi-chapter ficlets collection; re-posting as a stand-alone.

“Do you still love him?”

Yuri blinks, leaning up on an elbow to look at Otabek where he lies naked on Yuri’s bed. The mid-morning sun is gilding Otabek’s warm-toned skin, so vibrant next to Yuri’s own milk-white translucence. The golden light bounces off Otabek and onto the stack of boxes in the corner of the room, casting deep shadows into the corners and catching dust motes as they dance through the air.

“What?” Yuri asks, too surprised to give it his usual level of attitude.

Otabek rolls his eyes. “Do you still love Viktor?”

“Viktor’s  _ married _ !” Yuri splutters, pulling himself upright and schooling his face into an expression of horror that’s only slightly off what he actually feels. It’s less horror at the concept of loving Viktor, and more horror at Otabek voicing such a thing, but it’s close enough, he thinks. Yuri yanks the sheet over himself, trying not to make it obvious how much he’s avoiding Otabek’s eyes.

“So?” Otabek asks calmly. “That doesn’t mean you’re not still in love with him.”

“What do you mean,  _ still _ ,” Yuri snarls, “and why the fuck are you asking a question like this? Aren’t we moving in together? Haven’t we been together for years now?” He can feel the sinking in the pit of his stomach, can feel fear twisting its claws into his gut. He’s been too transparent, too obvious; he’s made Otabek doubt his regard, and now Yuri is going to  _ lose _ him, going to lose  _ everything _ , and he’ll be more alone than ever, and-

“Yura,” Otabek’s hand lands on his bare knee. “Breathe.”

Yuri draws a shuddering breath, swiping angrily at the sudden wetness on his face. “How dare you,” he grits out, his hand shaking as he pushes at Otabek. “How fucking  _ dare _ you.”

Otabek sighs, pulls his hand back. “Yurochka, I’m not angry. It’s not a secret. I came into this relationship knowing you were in love with Viktor.”

“You  _ what _ ,” Yuri stares at him like he’s grown antennae. “You have been dating me for three fucking years knowing…  _ thinking… _ that I’m in love with someone else?”

“I just wondered if you still were,” Otabek tells him, his face serious and implacable. “That’s all.”

“I… Bekyusha, I love  _ you _ ,” Yuri pleads, sure his face is blotchy and red and deeply unattractive. He can’t care, because the most important thing in this moment is that Otabek believe him, that Otabek not leave him.

Otabek finally sits up, all the glorious muscle of his chest and abs rippling as he reaches out and drags Yuri bodily into his arms. “I know you do, Yurochka,” he murmurs, and the gentleness of it is Yuri’s undoing. He crumples silently into Otabek’s arms, burying his face into Otabek’s shoulder, body shaking with fear and anger and helplessness. “I know you do.”

“Then  _ why _ ,” Yuri gets out, his voice muffled by Otabek’s warm skin.

“I wanted to know if I’m going to be sharing you forever,” Otabek says, and the calmness of his voice makes Yuri want to hit him. “It’s okay if you do, Yura. I’d rather have part of you than none of you. I just want to know where I stand.”

“ _ First _ ,” Yuri clutches at Otabek’s neck, fingers digging into his shoulders in what’s probably a painful grip. He forces the thoughts of silver strands and a blue, blue gaze, of a lilting accent that sounds like home and the relentless touch at his arm, his elbow, his hip, from his mind. He fills it instead with the richness of dark eyes and thick, coarse hair that curls in his fists; of broad, brown shoulders and the scents of leather and gasoline; of comfortable silence and endless patience. “You’ll always come first, Bekyusha,” Yuri vows, voice thick in the warm air.

Otabek just nods, and tucks Yuri’s head closer against his chest.


End file.
